


Geek in the Pink

by mtac_archivist



Category: NCIS
Genre: Humor, M/M, Not Episode Related, Not a Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-29
Updated: 2006-06-29
Packaged: 2019-03-02 05:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13311786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtac_archivist/pseuds/mtac_archivist
Summary: A geek in the pink and a curious Tony.





	Geek in the Pink

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Jessi, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [ MTAC](https://fanlore.org/wiki/MTAC), an archive of NCIS fanfiction which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after August 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator (and this work is still attached to the archivist account), please contact me using the e-mail address on [ the MTAC collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/mtac/profile)

  
Author's notes: Just a whee bit humor. ;)  
  
Oh, and _Bambino_ is used in the German series instead of Probie, fyi.  


* * *

I have to admit I feel nervous when I step out of the elevator, while I know it really shouldn’t be an issue. And it probably is to no one – but me. Why? Because DiNozzo will be giving me hell about it, I just know it. Not that I’m not already his favourite victim to pick on, but there certainly was no need to give him any more reasons to.

However, the moment I enter the bureau, I can practically feel he’s grinning at me already. It’s just the usual good morning from Kate, while Gibbs is off somewhere, probably threatening a coffee machine or something. I sit down at my desk, trying to ignore DiNozzo, who happens to be beaming like an idiot from ear to ear.

An impossible task.

“Ahem.”

I have no choice but to look up at him.

“Nice shirt.”

Yes, I know. Kthxbye.  
But of course he doesn’t leave it at that comment.

“Didn’t know you liked that colour.” He continues, and I roll my eyes, annoyed. “I don’t like that colour.” I reply, while I switch on my PC. Tony raises an eyebrow.

“Then what did you buy a pink shirt for?”

Sighing, I decide I certainly don’t want to have a discussion about my unwanted choice of clothes today, but I know Tony’s not going to give up until he knows the boring story behind it.

“I didn’t. It was an accident.” I start, and Tony already opens his mouth to say something, but I continue just before he can. “Put it in the washing machine with some red clothes.”

That should satisfy even Tony’s curiosity, I think. However, this is Tony we are talking about, something I shouldn’t forget.

“I’ve never seen you wear anything red.”

I give him my best puzzled look, immediately deciding it would probably induce a headache when I’d think about why exactly Tony paid such close attention to my clothes. Trying to abandon the subject I face my keyboard, but by now DiNozzo’s sitting on my table, looking me over once or twice. Slightly uncomfortable in my position, I look at him again. “What?”

“What kind of red clothes are those that we never get to see them?” He asks, smirking, crooking his head to the side.

Rolling my eyes for what feels like the at least twelfth time, I ask: “Why do you care, Tony?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

I sigh, and I have the slight feeling I have done that at least a dozen times before as well. Besides Gibbs when he’s on a case, I know no one more curious than Tony. Just then, luckily, the boss walks in, shouting orders at us and tossing the car keys in my direction. More quickly than needed I’m up on my feet and in the elevator on my way to the garage – unluckily with Tony standing beside me within a second.

“So?”

He looks at me, expectantly. I decide to meet his expectations.

“Thongs, Tony, red thongs.” 

I tell him, before the elevator halts at the garage. I get out, and I certainly don’t need to turn around to see his dumbfound face when he doesn’t follow immediately. Thinking I just handled this rather well, I can already hear Tony’s voice from the elevator.

“Hey, bambino.”

I turn around.

”I want to see them.”

The last thing I see is his huge grin before the elevator doors close between us.

And I’m pretty sure _my_ dumbfound face has the colour of my shirt now.


End file.
